


Elevated Meetings

by courfsprouvaire



Series: Lamarque Law Firm [2]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Lawyer fic, M/M, background Montparnasse/Jehan is implied, it's like Suits but not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 18:18:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courfsprouvaire/pseuds/courfsprouvaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After waiting for Jehan to show up at the law firm he works at, Courfeyrac ensures that he speaks to the poet, letting nothing get in his way of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elevated Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> This was pre-written and uploaded to Tublr which means a quick update. Quick updates rarely occur for me when these things are not pre-written though, welp.

When the door to the main area of the office opened once more, Courfeyrac’s head snapped up so he could see who it was walking in only for him to be disappointed once more when a bleary eyed Grantaire stumbled in, his black curls still a messy disarray although it was evident that the paralegal had at least put in some effort to tame them and look professional although the wonky tie and scuffed shoes sort of put a dampener on that image, as did the way he breathlessly ran past Courfeyrac, who stood at the fax machine, and towards his desk, slamming his briefcase on it and sitting down, his hands flying to the computer keyboard so it would look like he had been there the whole time.

He caught Courfeyrac’s eye (who was still trying to push away the sinking feeling in his stomach when he had to deal with the fact that the person who was supposed to be coming in today still hadn’t shown up) and raised an eyebrow in a silent question. The hopeful look on his face made Courfeyrac feel guilty when he had no choice but to tell him the truth.

“He’s already asked where you were,” he told him and winced sympathetically at the disappointed look on Grantaire’s face. He knew the other man hadn’t meant to be late and he definitely knew he didn’t want to let Enjolras down but it was Grantaire and Grantaire was bad at keeping promises even to himself. Courfeyrac debated on whether or not he could try and cover for him but he was already too late when he spotted Enjolras walking out of his office.

Grantaire’s head looked up hopefully as he walked by, his eyes following the blonde man as he made his way to the front desk, before sinking back into his chair with a glum look on his face when Enjolras simply gave him a look which barely acknowledged him and was more reprimanding than anything.

Courfeyrac sighed and gave Grantaire a pat on the shoulder which was shrugged off immediately before being followed by an apologetic look from the man. Courfeyrac understood that he was just angry at himself for failing Enjolras again. Everyone except Enjolras himself knew that Grantaire would do pretty much anything for him and tried time and time again to impress him to no avail. It was both pathetic and admirable to watch.

Walking over to where the blonde man was standing at the desk of the receptionist, Courfeyrac listened to what it was he was saying. “A call from Montparnasse?” he was asking to which the receptionist, Musichetta, nodded in confirmation.

“He said his secretary was on his way over to drop off a file concerning the previous meeting for the Monsieur Madeleine case,” she told him.

A water dispenser suddenly appeared in front of Courfeyrac (really he just hadn’t been watching where he was going) and would toppled over if it hadn’t been for the lawyer’s quick reflexes when he walked into it but he managed to catch it on time with only a few of the cups falling. The thud of his body coming into contact with it didn’t go amiss by half the people in the office though and he turned around to see a few of them shaking their head at him, used to this behaviour.

Straightening his die, he turned to Enjolras who had barely blinked at the noise. “So, uh, one of Montparnasse’s guys is coming over? Now? As in they’ve left and are on their way?” he asked, wincing a little at how high pitched his voice sounded and he quickly tried to compose himself again, pointedly ignoring the raised eyebrow Enjolras was giving him.

“That’s what Musichetta said, yes,” his fellow attorney said, slowly, looking at Courfeyrac as if he were about to deem him mentally ill. Courfeyrac didn’t exactly blame him as the almost frantic look in his eyes wasn’t exactly something of a common occurrence.

If he were to be completely honest with himself, he would admit that he had been waiting for Jehan’s expected arrival more than he probably should have been. The little poet had barely left Courfeyrac’s mind all night even though he had tried to push thoughts of him away, especially when those thoughts took a nasty turn and all he was able to imagine was Montparnasse in his leather jacket and skinny tie shoving a tiny figure in a kitten sweater against a wall and attacking his neck with his mouth.

He shook his head, once again pushing those thought away before he was overwhelmed by nausea. He made his way over to the coffee maker, if only for something to do while he kept his eyes on the door, watching for any sort of movement.

A few minutes later, he heard Musichetta call for Enjolras. “Montparnasse’s guy is here, should I buzz him in?”

Courfeyrac let out a yelp as the hot water he had been pouring into his coffee suddenly splashed across his skin. This earned another disapproving look from Enjolras who was walking towards the main door to the office.

“I can get it!” Courfeyrac called after him but he was already being ushered away by Joly to the sink so he could put his hand under cold water. To be honest, Courfeyrac could barely feel the burn and was simply more eager to get a glimpse of Jehan and hoped that maybe if he saw him again the bruises would be gone from his neck and what he had seen last night had simply been an illusion caused by exhaustion and fatigue.

He tried to crane his neck around the corner but all he could see was Enjolras’ back. He was definitely talking to someone though and Courfeyrac could have sworn he heard Jehan’s quiet voice reply. He wanted to yank his hand away from the cold water flowing onto his hand but Joly was keeping it firmly in place.

When he finally allowed Courfeyrac to tear his hand free, the lawyer was rounding the corner and was just in time to see the door to the office close behind a familiar figure. “Damn it,” he muttered and bounced on the balls of his feet for a few minutes before thinking ‘screw it’ and sprinting out the office after Jehan, hearing Enjolras call out after him but not listening to what it was he was saying.

The elevator doors were closing and he ran forwards, his hand flying out so he could jam his arms in between them. With a grunt, he pushed them open again and stumbled inside, standing upright when he was only a mere two feet away from a very surprised and startled looking Jehan.

“Wh-wha—?” was all Jehan seemed able to say.

As the doors closed behind him, Courfeyrac allowed a smile to slip onto his face when he took in the sight of Jehan, wearing a ridiculous polka dot shirt with red skinny jeans and matching Converse, a woollen scarf wound around his neck with flowers imprinted in it and a similarly patterned hat atop his head, a fluffy bauble sticking out the end of it with different types of flowers hanging out of that.

If Courfeyrac thought that Jehan was adorable the night before, he was practically melting at the sight of him now.

“Courfeyrac?” Jehan’s voice snapped him out of his thought, the smaller man’s arms wrapping around himself almost self-consciously as if he had noticed Courfeyrac’s ogling which was completely possible seeing as the lawyer was hardly subtle when it came to these types of things.

“Jehan,” he smiled then turned around to stand beside him, facing the elevator doors and pressing a random button on it to make it look like he hadn’t just wrestled with automatic doors in order to see him. He glanced sideways to take a peek at Jehan’s neck but the damn scarf was in the way. This gave him no way to prove or disprove the theory of Jehan and Montparnasse being an item.

Of course there was always another way but it was hardly a tactful way to—

Oh, fuck it.

“Are you and Montparnasse dating?” he asked, not liking how the red colour of Jehan’s cheeks and his wide eyes seemed to be all the confirmation needed.

“What?” the secretary squeaked.

“I saw the way he was with you last night and I was just wondering…” He trailed off, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

“We, uh… He doesn’t… I’m not sure if he thinks of me as a boyfriend or…” Jehan was staring at his Converse with enough intensity to burn a hole in them, his face matching the colour of his jeans.

However, Courfeyrac only saw this as encouragement and quickly grinned. “Great!” he said, causing Jehan to look up in confusion.

As the lift doors opened at the floor Courfeyrac had pressed the button for, he reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and brought out the only card that was in there, one of his business cards that was most definitely there for a reason. He handed it to Jehan.

“This may look like the sleaziest thing ever but…just call me if you’re interested, okay?” he said, before giving Jehan a quick wink and walking out the elevator.

“Interested in what?” he heard Jehan cry as the doors closed behind him. Courfeyrac only smiled.

He knew that by the time the lift reached the ground floor, Jehan would have turned the card with Courfeyrac’s details on it over and would have read the message he had scribbled onto it before falling asleep last night.

_“I think you’re cute_

_Montparnasse is kind of a tool with body odour_

_Have coffee with me”_

Underneath that, in the same messy scrawl, were a few more words.

_“A haiku for you.”_

As he made his way back to the office, he ignored Enjolras questions which demanded to know where he had ran off to and instead continued with his work, barely paying attention to the meeting with their client for the upcoming case. His thoughts were elsewhere.

That night when Courfeyrac was lounging on his bed, shoving popcorn into his mouth and flicking through the TV channels, his phone buzzed at his bedside table. He scrambled over to get it, popcorn flying everywhere and his heart leapt when he saw it was an unknown number.

He unlocked it and pressed it to his ear. “Hello?” he greeted the caller, not even bothering to hide the hopefulness in his voice.

“Courfeyrac? Hi.” At the sound of the familiar voice, Courfeyrac nearly passed out right then and there.

“It’s Jehan. Um… I like coffee.”


End file.
